Her Slytherin
by roundabout wickedness
Summary: It's been two years since Blaise and Ginny first got together...and Ginny's found something unsettling out. BZGW and DMHG Rated T for now. Editted; will be updated soon.
1. The Breakup, Revisited

**Okay, so it's been *gasp* two years. I decided to combine chapters and change everything around. I hope you loyal followers enjoy. I'll update (hopefully) soon.**

It had been two years today since Blaise Zabini and Ginny Weasley started dating. It was one year ago exactly that they said the three words that would change their relationship forever: "I love you." And today, today something else was going to happen. Ginny knew it. She knew what was going to happen. It wasn't going to be pretty. Blaise Zabini had been cheating on her with Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw beauty. Ginny had caught them together, in _her _bed. HER BED! Blaise had denied it. Cho hadn't.

Ginny had believed Cho, not the man she had come to love and respect.

Ginny still believed Cho; she would believe Cho no matter what, because Ginny believed her own eyes – they hadn't failed her yet, and Ginny doubted any possibility that they had. She did not want to believe it – but she sat on her couch and steeled herself for the imminent arrival of her boyfriend.

Today when Blaise came around to her door to wish her "happy anniversary," the redhead was going to shove his flowers and his chocolate back in his face and tell him to get back to his whore. It was her last choice; don't you see? She had to hurt him to protect herself. Yes, it was selfish, she knew that. Nevertheless, do you think she really wanted to cry herself asleep every night he wasn't there? She would miss him, miss his easy smile and the nights he comforted her over her fights with Hermione. Even those sad, far-off looks on his face as he recalled the things he had to do in the war, the friends they had lost. To him, the wounds were still fresh. To her, they would never heal, not for either of them. She would miss the nights where they took comfort in each other; the rustle of satin sheets and the silken feeling of his skin against hers. She would miss the whispered words, and she would always love him.

But he had hurt her; he had destroyed her worse than when she heard that Hermione was going to become a Malfoy even after what the blonde pig had done to her the week before the final battle. He had hurt her worse than Malfoy had hurt him when the couple heard what Draco – no, Malfoy - had done. It had hurt worse than when the two pairs of once friends had decided to part ways.

She had kicked him out of her flat, but now, he would be coming back. He had tried before, but she had requested time to think, refusing even to listen to him, that rich tenor voice he had still affecting her in ways that Ginny would never let him know. This was way worse than when he was forced by his family to take the Mark (although she knew that part of him was driven to it, that subconscious tickle, the need for power that all Slytherins essentially craved). This was way worse than anything: a betrayal of a different sort.

There was a knock on her door. It was him; it had to be.

She steeled herself, looking with rapt attention at the door.

Ginny opened it, a mixture of fury, hurt, and regret flitting unreadable across her features.

Before he even had a chance to speak, she said it. "Blaise, we're through." He looked at her with confused eyes. Those eyes…they had been one of the things she had fallen in love with. They were a deep, sparkling blue. Although he was kind, his eyes always held the mysterious things of curiosity, mischievousness, and a hint of his darker side: the part of him that wanted to join the Dark.

The Mark hadn't been long, and he hadn't liked it. When Harry finally defeated Voldemort, Blaise and Ginny had celebrated together. It was the time of their lives; they had the time of their lives. Shortly afterward, they had said the three words to each other: "I love you." They had comforted Hermione together after they found out Draco's initiation task had been to rape her; after they found out she was pregnant. Even though they knew it was a necessity, they had broken ties with Draco Malfoy even when Hermione had forgiven him. Even when Hermione had willingly entered into a tense relationship with him for the benefit of their unborn child – the arguments between Ginny and Hermione had been enough to split the two apart for what Ginny thought would be forever. She had Blaise, though – and Blaise helped her through it. Blaise showed her the time of her life in Italy, and she had taught him what she knew of Muggle technology. Hermione was soon forgotten in their happiness.

That was then; this was now. It wouldn't do for Ginny to dwell on the happy memories of the past; not when she was breaking up with him. Blaise asked incredulously, "What?" It was like he hadn't heard her words, or that he didn't understand them.

She took a deep breath, and narrowed her eyes to keep the tears from falling: "Blaise. We're. Through." Her hand moved to shut the door, and he spoke again just before it closed.

"Ginny! Wait!"

"No, Blaise." The door slammed in his face as she sunk to the floor, back against the door and let herself cry the tears that she had held in. It shouldn't have been like this…they were perfect together. She should be happy that he was gone from her life…but instead, she was distraught.

On the other side of the door, Blaise was shocked, too shocked for tears. This wasn't right. He knew it. And he knew that she knew it.

Blaise couldn't believe it; she had broken up with him. On their anniversary, even, Ginny had said the three worst words he could ever think of: "Blaise. We're. Through." His heart hurt. His beautiful red head hadn't even given him a chance.

He slowly stood up and turned to face the door. One hand drifted to the pocket where his gift to her was. Painstakingly, he bent over and set a black and silver velvet box on her porch.

It was still their anniversary, and he still loved her. If only she could return the affection, then all would be well in the ways of the world. Maybe he could've easily made this an anniversary for a third event, an event involving the diamond ring in that velvet box.

Alas, he made a terrible mistake and she had now called him on it. Blaise had very obviously broken her heart. If only she knew the whole story, if only she would have listened to him over Cho Chang, polyjuice potion extraordinaire. But his one love was a girl: stubborn and obstinate. Ginny wouldn't believe him anymore than she would believe Draco Malfoy.

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As soon as Ginny heard the telltale POP of someone disapparating, she stood up and re-opened her front door. _He really is gone_, she thought, _and I doubt he'll ever take me back even if I asked._ Relief washed over her- she must not have broken his heart too bad. Otherwise, he would still be here.

She felt better, at least by a little bit, until of course, she saw the black velvet box at her feet. Ginny stooped and picked it up. As soon as she flipped the lid to it, she started crying again. She felt as if she could never stop crying.

For inside the box was a diamond ring, set in white gold. Tiny emeralds and rubies surrounded the diamond. It was absolutely beautiful. On the inside, etched in elegant letters, the words "asking for your hand in holy matrimony" were engraved, and she could not help but suppress a half-quirked smile and a shaky chuckle. That's what _he_ – the ferret – had said on the day that Blaise had asked her out. Another tear trickled down her cheek.

Carefully she took it out and placed on her ring finger. To herself more than anyone, she whispered, "Yes, Blaise. I would've said yes, once upon a time."

He heard her; he hadn't apparated too far- just behind the bushes that hugged her house. Out of sight, he found that he could still hear every word she said.

When she had spoken, his heart lifted. Maybe still yet, there could be a happy ending for his dismal fairy tale, an ending where all his dreams – the good ones, not the nightmares – came true; an ending where the love of his life forgave him; one where the red-headed, hot-tempered woman that he knew he could never forget would be his – and he hers – forever.

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_Hermione,_

_I broke up with him. Unfortunately, I don't think I did the right thing. I think it affected me just as much as it did him. And Hermione…_

_He was going to ask me to marry him. He still gave me the ring…it's beautiful. Absolutely stunning. But Hermione…_

_I need your help…please…Damage control is most definitely needed. For me…and for him. I messed things up bad this time; we messed things up with you and Draco. I know you still probably hate me for calling you the stupidest know-it-all I'd ever met, but Hermione, please?_

_Help?_

_Love,_

_Ginny_

_PS. You can hex me all you want for my cowardice and my stubborn refusal to forgive him for what he did to you. Tell him I'm sorry, too – I mean it, even if you don't want to see me._

She sealed the letter safely in an envelope and gave it to Pig to deliver. "This is for Hermione, Pig," she said before letting him fly out the window. She hoped Hermione would forgive her for this; she hoped that the intelligent girl would see through Ginny's own selfishness and hot temper. Hermione knew – and was probably the only person to understand – Ginny's way of holding grudges. Perhaps this between Blaise and Ginny would bring the friends together again, like they had once.

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Hermione was at the Ministry, trying to get HELF (house elf liberation front- the new and improved version of SPEW) passed as a law when a flying missile hit her in the back of the head. She turned, and shook her head. "Oh Pig…" She had not seen the owl in over a year, and was surprised at his uncommonly low mood.

Detaching the letter and giving the miniscule owl a slight pat on the head before he took off again and zoomed around the room, she sighed. It was from Ginny, and the envelope was tear-splattered. Peeling back the seal, she took out the equally tear-splattered letter and read it.

"Poor Ginny. Poor Blaise. Wait. Poor _me!_ Those two seem to _insist_ upon driving me insane with all their drama, even after we haven't talked since Draco!" Hermione muttered as she quickly scribbled a note to Ginny saying to come to her house later that evening. "But I suppose I must help. I'm actually quite surprised that she didn't add an 'or else' as a P.S."

Draco Malfoy stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "What's going on, love?" he asked – still smelling of smoke and Floo powder.

"Ginny and Blaise, after all these months," she sighed and turned around in his arms to face him. "And what are you doing here! You're supposed to be at home watching the baby!"

"He wanted to come see the ministry. I brought him with me," Draco explained, nodding his head to the carrier that sat near the fire-place. Hermione smiled as her little boy inspected her office; he was only a few months old but already growing fast. Little Sebastian was inherently curious about the world he was in – what appeared to be the only thing the tyke had inherited from her. Everything else – from the blonde wisps of hair on his head to the strong chin in his baby face – was Draco's.

"Ginny's coming over tonight…she broke up with Blaise and feels terrible about it. It seems that we are the only people she can turn to. And she apologized for the way she treated us."

Draco rolled his eyes and chuckled. "So it's her fault that Blaise is sitting drunk in our flat? Not that I blame him – he loved her for decades. Never would stop going on about the 'bloody Gryffindor chit' after she was the one that sealed the Quidditch Cup for your bloody house."

Hermione gasped and moved away from the blonde towards her desk. This evening wasn't going to be pretty for them; she quickly scribbled a letter to Harry, requesting that he watch over Sebastian for awhile. The magical paper airplane flew upwards to the Auror's headquarters and it was minutes before Harry was in her office picking up the baby, kissing Hermione's cheek, glaring soundly at Draco, and skipping away with the cooing child.

"What are we going to do?" she murmured, sitting down with her head between her hands, trying to hide the fact that her tone was eerily similar to when she told Draco Malfoy (her rapist and at that time, her once-friend) that she was pregnant with her child. It had been understood that his act of violence was one that mitigated repulsion from her, but it also brought forth pity. That day – the day she informed him with a broken yet cool demeanor – she had seen regret, disgust, and anger at himself written across his aquiline features in something abnormally expressive of Draco.

_She had steeled herself not to cry, practiced in front of the mirror. "Ferret, I'm pregnant. You're the father," she had said. The shock that was written across his face was obvious – the Order had managed to have both him and Blaise's participation in the Death Eater's leagues pardoned, for both had functioned, much like Severus, as a spy. This – coupled with Hermione's revelation – had made Draco question the justice system._

_He couldn't keep his emotions off his face, couldn't stay unreadable._

_And his Occlumency would have failed him had Hermione been an accomplished Legilimens, but the truth of it was that he would have welcomed her delving into his mind, had she been able to._

_"Gr-Hermione, I'm sorry."_

_She had stared him down, her lower lip quivering. "You're an arrogant prick to think I would forgive you for what you did," she snapped, her hand jerking up to rest on her still-flat belly. Eyebrows furrowing, her eyes hardened. "I know it was so you can save yourself; I know it was so you wouldn't look bad in front of the others. I KNOW YOU WANTED IT FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!!! You aren't sorry. You could never be sorry. For the life of me, I can't understand why you weren't committed to a life sentence. You, more than anyone other than your father, deserved it!" She had never been privy to the reasons why Draco and Blaise stayed out of prison; well, she knew why Blaise had not been thrown into prison, but Draco had turned on the three friends with an alacrity that she had not believed._

_"I was a spy." Those four words were spoken with such intensity that Hermione couldn't doubt them, and her mind, still as sharp as ever even with her anger and repugnance, pieced together the logic. She flashed back to that day – and she remembered the look of utter sadness on his face as he stood at the door to her prison cell only to be wiped away by a classic Malfoy smirk; forward a few days – he had been the one that casually sent a Bombardo at the metal bars of her cell, being careful that no shrapnel hit her, and he had turned his back as she had fled. "Like Blaise. Hermione, I never wanted to, but I had no choice. One of the other initiates would have had to otherwise, and they wouldn't have been nearly as…gentle."_

_She visibly crumpled. Although she still did not trust him, she had to believe him. And of course, she forgave him. He had gathered her up, still murmuring 'I'm sorry.' It was as if part of her always believed in him, just as part of her always believed in Severus Snape._

"You're thinking of it again, Mia," he said, having come to stand behind her and rest a cool, slender-fingered hand on her left shoulder. "Please don't. The look on your face sickens me, because I'm still trying to forget. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, love. I had forgiven you before I had even talked to you about Sebastian. But what – pray tell – what in Merlin's name are we going to do? Blaise is drunk, Ginny will be a mess, and they're probably going to get into an informal Wizard's Duel in iour/i flat," she bemoaned, tugging lightly on her hair.

He squeezed her shoulder. "We'll figure something out."


	2. Desperation

**Alright. Chapter two. Very long awaited, I'm sure, by some of you. Anyway, here you go. There's some more about Draco and Hermione's relationship, and I'm thinking that if anyone is interested I'll write a small story on how exactly it happened when either this or Trouble is done. I'm not sure I can concentrate on more than one story. Read, Review, Remember that I do not own JK Rowling's property nor am I presumptuous enough to claim that I do.**

"_I was a spy." Those four words were spoken with such intensity that Hermione couldn't doubt them, and her mind, still as sharp as ever even with her anger and repugnance, pieced together the logic. She flashed back to that day – and she remembered the look of utter sadness on his face as he stood at the door to her prison cell only to be wiped away by a classic Malfoy smirk; forward a few days – he had been the one that casually sent a Bombardo at the metal bars of her cell, being careful that no shrapnel hit her, and he had turned his back as she had fled. "Like Blaise. Hermione, I never wanted to, but I had no choice. One of the other initiates would have had to otherwise, and they wouldn't have been nearly as…gentle."_

_She visibly crumpled. Although she still did not trust him, she had to believe him. And of course, she forgave him. He had gathered her up, still murmuring 'I'm sorry.' It was as if part of her always believed in him, just as part of her always believed in Severus Snape._

_They had stood like that for several minutes, her sobbing into his shirt and he trying to hold himself together. This was no one important to him – yes, she had been his friend, and yes, he had hurt her, but he could live without her. Guilt did not ride on him that night. Well, it did, but he would prefer it if it didn't. "What are we going to do, Draco?" she murmured into his now tear-stained shirt. "I don't want to raise a child alone, and I will have him."_

"_Him?"_

"_Seriously, Draco, there are more important things to worry about right now. What are _we_ going to do?" she said, making it sound like they were in this together, making him realize that they were in this together. This pregnancy might have rekindled their friendship, he thought, and although he wished it to be under different circumstances, he was glad that she forgave him. Blaise and Ginny might forgive him if Hermione did; after all, she was the one he hurt most. She forgave him. She was…fretting over nothing. It was easy to slip into their old banter, the bickering and insults._

"_You're still a worrywart."_

"_And you are still a ferret."_

"_I'm wounded!"_

"_Indeed."_

"_Please don't do the Snape imitation."_

"_I ensnare your senses, do I not?"_

"_I mean it, Hermione."_

"_Sure you do."_

"_Always."_

"_Forever?"_

"_Of course."_

"_Then what are we going to do? You know I can't do this alone. I have Ginny and Blaise, but _you_ have more responsibility in this child then they do. They don't know; they have no idea I'm talking to you right now. They would have thought me crazy," she murmured, and she collapsed into racking sobs again. It had been so easy to forget for a moment where they were, but Hermione's mind inevitably travelled back to the current dilemma. "I have no one."_

"_Hermione, shut up."_

"_Draco…"_

"_I said be quiet. We'll do this together. I'll help you. I don't know why, but you of all people have successfully managed to guilt me into it," he growled, putting a hand comfortingly on her shoulder. She squeaked. It was infuriating, her squeaking. Somehow, he knew that she wasn't satisfied with him helping her raise a kid out of guilt, perhaps it was because she rarely used guilt-tripping as a method of getting what she wanted. "It was a joke, Hermione. He's my child too."_

"_He is."_

"_And he's a boy?"_

"_Yes, Draco. You are going to have a son."_

"_I'm sorry, Hermione, more than you could ever know."_

"_I know, Draco. I think I always knew that you would never…well, do that, unless there was a benefit. I think I always knew that you were good at heart," she said, placing her hand on his chest. "I forgive you. I haven't said that yet."_

"_I knew you did. You're far too predicable, little Mudblood."_

"_Ferret."_

"_Know-it-all."_

"_I hate you."_

"_I hate you, too."_

"_Indeed."_

"_Hermione!"_

_Suddenly, the weak smile left her face as she came to realize something. "They won't forgive you, not as easily as I did. I – well – I am not nearly as temperamental as Ginny is, and Blaise – he's hopelessly in love with her and would do nothing to make her angry," she muttered, turning away and crossing her arms over her chest. "They hate you, really and truly hate you. For abandoning us, for turning towards the Dark, for…what you did…for getting off the hook, they hate you."_

"_Shouldn't you?"_

"_We covered this already. I do hate you."_

"_No, you don't."_

"_Oh, of course I don't. You and I…well, we're closer than they thought. We always were. I suppose that's what hurt the most, but you – I knew you. You wouldn't have done it willingly. You wouldn't have enjoyed it. You – well, I don't know," she said. "I still don't trust you. I don't know how long it will take for me to trust you."_

"_It's enough that you'll forgive me."_

"_I know."_

"_Insufferable girl."_

"_Indeed."_

"Hermione." Her head was still on her desk, her arms crossed underneath. She was mad at him. She was mad at Ginny. She was mad at Blaise. But most of all, she was curious. Why would the pair suddenly seek them out after they had broken up, quite messily, from what she could tell; even upset, he thought she was beautiful, although she hardly agreed. It had been a rocky start for them. "We'll figure something out."

"I know."

"Merlin, this again? Listen to me – I have a plan," he declared, rubbing her shoulder. She looked up at him, obviously aghast. Draco's plans were never good. They occasionally resulted in mass chaos, but mostly, they just resulted in failure. "It's foolproof. I get Blaise, give him some Sober-Up, and take him to the park. You calm Ginny down, and contact me with the galleon when you're done. We get them back together. It's simple."

"And destined to fail utterly, Draco."

"He wants her back, she wants him back."

"Ginny and Blaise are not as simple as that."

"Sure they are."

"No, they aren't, Draco. You're too wrapped up in yourself to realize that not everything is simple in relationships. Just because we get along with simplicity and acceptance does not mean everyone in the world does," she said, looking at him sternly. She referred to their easy way of making up after their sometimes explosive arguments. They had different views on a lot of things – Ginny and Blaise were one of them. Hermione suspected that although her boyfriend wanted the two back in their lives, he still bore a grudge against them.

"And you know this how?"

"I did date Ronald. We would go days without talking to each other."

"So?"

"According to Molly, the rest of her family is similar."

"Oh."

"Indeed."

"Hermione!"

"Draco!"

They shouted each other's names in faux horror. Promptly, they both burst into uncontrollable laughter. "Well, that settles that. My plan?" She nodded, and slipping her hand into his, smiled. He smiled back, trying to reassure her. "Well – shall we go? First to get Blaise sober and then I'm sure you'll have to deal with Ginny." She squeezed his hand, a silent encouragement. She would be all right, although he was not looking forward to confronting their two ex-best friends. Everything had gotten complicated because of the war.

Before, his friendship with Hermione had come surprisingly easy, spurred on by the fact that their best friends were dating. Then, he was forced to break off with all three of them by Lord Voldemort and the Order. Of course, he still saw Blaise at the larger meetings, when everyone was summoned, but even then, they avoided each other. Then he had raped Hermione, and Blaise' avoidance had become downright shunning. He hadn't blamed him. He would have shunned himself had he been able too. The look that had been on her face – and then, the discovery that it wasn't enough to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord; it had almost been too much to bear.

"You are infuriating, Draco Malfoy."

"There we go. That's my Mudblood."

They were both unaware of when he stopped calling her Mudblood as an insult, and when she had started allowing it as a term of endearment. She still faked offense at it most time, just for kicks and giggles, but now, well, she acknowledged with a watery smile. "Come on, ferret. Let's kick this thing in the rear before it eats us."

"What?"

"Never mind."

Still hand-in-hand, they tossed the powder into the fireplace. Unfortunately, when they stepped through to the other side, they were not prepared for what they saw. Blaise was fast asleep on the floor, an empty bottle of butterbeer – Hermione refused to let anything stronger into her house – lying slightly askew. Draco smirked. Hermione gaped. Not only was he asleep, he was stark naked. Shutting her eyes, the young woman hummed to herself, attempting to forget such a scarring sight. Blaise in the nude was not something either of them ever wished to see, especially after he had been drinking. The smell of alcohol wafted from his skin, and the magical aura that surrounded him crackled erratically.

"Was he like this when you left?" she asked, and both of them did not Draco to answer. Hermione had seen the startled look on her boyfriend's face, although it had quickly turned to a smirk and she had then squeezed her eyes shut against the horrific sight. "I take it he wasn't? Well, Draco, do something! I will not have a naked man in my parlor!" He chortled – too characteristic of him, indeed – and immediately set to putting Blaise back into himself. At least, back into himself enough that Hermione and Draco could find out what happened between their erstwhile friends.

Ten minutes later, and although he was rather groggy, Blaise was sitting upright, no longer drooling, and after an Evanesco, no longer smelling pungently like firewhiskey and butterbeer. Draco sat next to him, slightly off to the side, turned towards him, looking expectant, while Hermione was not in the room, having excused herself to go scrub her brain (she was actually taking the memory and depositing it in Draco's Pensieve, just to get it out of her own mind – also as a prank, but…more to get it out of her own mind). "So, what happened, mate?" Draco said tentatively, hoping that a sober Blaise would be more than a minor improvement on a drunken, raving Blaise. "You gave Hermione quite a fright."

"Once upon a time you wouldn't have cared. I still don't think you do. I won't watch you hurt her, Malfoy," he hissed, glaring at his friend. "You raped her. You impregnated her. You tricked her into living with you."

"I think, Blaise, you would find that she tricked me into living with her. You know the story. She forgives me. It's about time you did too," Draco reasoned, trying to stay calm. A year later, and it was still a sore subject for him, his brutal treatment of the woman he loved – and he had loved her then, just had not realized it until later. She had been important. "But you aren't here to declare to me how much you hate me. Ginny broke up with you. Why?"

"I dunno."

"Blaise."

"Fine," the Italian boy snapped, bristling at Draco's superior, parenting tone. He used it all the time on little three-month-old Sebastian and Hermione said he had gotten quite good at it. "She thinks I cheated on her with Cho Chang. I didn't! I would never go for that twig of a girl; Ginny doesn't believe me. I don't blame her. The Ravenclaw bitch used Polyjuice. She broke into our house. She tricked Ginny."

"What on earth did you do to Chang that made her want to frame you?"

"I told her that she was worthless to the wizarding world if all that she was going to do was model lingerie that she didn't fill out," Blaise said, chuckling darkly despite the mood he was in. "Her face was priceless. She had been hitting on me, and I wanted to detach her. I'm afraid that I never told Ginny about it." His voice was monotonous – it lacked pitch, timbre, and depth. It scared Draco, more than he cared to admit. He still thought of Blaise as a friend, even though sometimes the man disgusted him. Hell, Draco felt abandoned, and he sure as hell knew how Hermione felt. She had cried and cried the night Ginny and Blaise told her that she was being irresponsible and until she left Draco, they wouldn't be speaking to her.

Obviously, circumstances changed.

"That was stupid of you not to tell her. Did you tell her it wasn't you in…bed?"

"I tried."

"She didn't believe you?"

"She didn't believe me."

"MIA! Get out here. Blaise has something to tell you."

"I do not."

"You are apologizing to her, because otherwise your sorry ass will be back on the street. You left her, when she needed you most. Yes, she had me, but she needed her friends. She cares about you two, and you both were petulant about the whole situation. I explained it to you – it was necessary to retain my cover and insure her safety!" Draco burst, anger bubbling up from its resting place. He was standing now, looming over the sitting man, his fists clenched against his sides. The muscles in his narrow jaw twitched.

Hermione entered the room, hardly glancing at Blaise. "What is it?" she said, her emotions barely masked. There was sadness, and regret, and hurt – along with anger and resentment. Did Hermione Granger resent Blaise? No, perhaps not, but then again…one would never know.

"Mia…Hermione, I…I'm sorry for abandoning you. I just couldn't believe that you – and him! – would…you know," he said, "I'm sure you did the right thing, but I meant well. I couldn't stand by and watch him hurt you again. And you weren't listening to us. I couldn't stand it. Ginny was furious – at him, not you. She couldn't stand it. We…well."

"You two are the most selfish people in the world."

"I think I deserved that," Blaise said somberly.


	3. Tension

**Alright. Chapter 3. Enjoy, read, review, and remember I do not own Harry Potter or his world. If I did, Severus Snape would still be alive.**

The tension in the air crackled, almost euphorically. Hermione fixed Blaise with her most pronounced glare, something that had once made even Severus Snape back down from an argument with her. "That you deserved that was possibly the biggest understatement of the year, Blaise Zabini. You really hurt me, and Ginny did too – but we can't help _you_ if you let the past interfere. You two – selfish and obnoxiously hot-headed as you are – are _perfect_ for each other," she explained, her voice heated. She didn't want two of the people she cared most about in the world to lose each other. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but she could not help it. She knew, in a way, how it felt to be abandoned. Ginny – well, she hadn't been talking to Harry much at all since Ron died, months before the final battle; it had been Blaise, Draco, and Hermione that had consoled the girl. Hermione realized that there was no one else that _she_ at least, could turn to. Not so sure about Blaise, she eyed him warily, brown eyes glinting with suspicion.

"Wait. I don't think I said anything about Ginny," Blaise intoned, his brain catching up to the fact that he hadn't told them anything about what happened. At least, he hadn't brought it up. "How did you know? Did she tell you? Oh god, you're going to side with her! You think I did it! Hermione, why isn't there firewhiskey in this house? Why?"

"Blaise, it's because of Sebastian, and if you had bothered to speak to me at all while I was pregnant – or at least bothered to attend the christening ceremony, you would know that. Or have you forgotten that I have a three-month-old infant son? Have you forgotten why you broke up with Draco and I?" she drilled, calming down slightly. "As for Ginny, yes, she told us, but we aren't going to take her side. It doesn't mean we'll be taking yours, either. I do not believe that you cheated on Ginny, but then again, you did betray us. Your best friends." Her speech had brightened her, and she had moved to sit on Draco's lap, a shiver running up her spine. Although they lived together, and dated, and had professed their mutual love, Hermione still didn't like close contact. She wasn't comfortable with it.

This time, though, she felt it was almost necessary, and she enjoyed feeling the beat of Draco's heart against her back, lacing her fingers through his and pulling his hands up to rest on her lap. He looked a bit confused, but Blaise was staring at their interlocked hands. Thank God that he hadn't seen Draco's look of puzzlement. It would make things worse if their friend realized they didn't actively participate in more intimate contact than was considered friendly. Hugs from behind were alright – that had been _before_ when they were friends. This was new. Draco and Hermione found, surprisingly, that it was comforting, almost natural.

Draco had been concerned about initiating a more serious physical relationship with Hermione, as well, but now was not the time or place to consider what was happening between _them_. Now was the time to consider Blaise and Ginny, not Draco and Hermione and Sebastian.

"You're right, Hermione," Blaise admitted, still staring almost longingly at the way the two felt so at ease together (he was completely unaware at their nerves, and they were trying their best to keep it that way). Ginny – he had that with her, and now it was gone. The four of them had been easy friends once upon a time, and he regretted that the easiness might not return. It was his fault; he should have pushed through. After all, he knew what Draco felt; he had been his best friend up until shortly after they turned eighteen. He knew that the blonde man could be mature and feel regret and be sorry, he knew that Draco could (surprisingly) think of something other than himself. When Hermione had forgiven him, Blaise could not have been happier.

"I'm sorry. Ginny – well, you know how she is," he finally conceded. "I never meant it to be forever, you know? I just thought she needed some more time to cool down. I don't think she's forgiven you yet, Draco, or you Hermione. For some reason, she thinks that you're hurting yourself purposefully, but you know her, right? She might be a bit paranoid, she might be temperamental and sometimes downright scary, but I love her. I can see you two love each other, perhaps more than Ginny and I ever did. I still love her more than anything, but…we had rocky parts and happy parts. She and I argued a lot. What do you do?"

"It really is Sebastian, and the history Draco and I have. He treads on eggshells, and I on glass. It's intense sometimes, Blaise, but it's true, and that's what keeps us happy, even though he can be _insufferable_, but you know Draco," Hermione said – she was almost always more diplomatic than any of the four, but she could be even scarier than Ginny when angry, more because she was normally so calm and docile than because she was a force to be reckoned with – even though she was.

"I don't understand."

"Don't try to, mate," Draco said, "It hurts even my head sometimes, and we all know I'm far superior to you." They all chuckled at that, even Blaise, although his laughter was restrained and cut off. "Anyway, we forgive you." Squeezing Hermione's slender hand, hoping he hadn't taken too much liberty at saying that, he smiled tightly. There was a much bigger issue at hand; getting Blaise to apologize was minor compared to attempting to calm down the Weaselette (and yes, Draco still referred to her as such, considering he knew all too well that she called him Malodorous and Ferret, both of which she picked up from Hermione.). Trying to appeal to her rational side hardly ever worked, because when she was upset…well.

Ginny was never very rational in the first place.

That's what they loved and hated about her, although for one in particular, it was mainly love.

"So what's all this about Cho?" Hermione inquired, causing a shot of disdain to flutter across Blaise' Grecian features.

_He had just come home – it was the day before their anniversary, and he had been out most of the day trying to perfect his plan. He knew what he was going to wear, where he would take her, and above all, the exact wording. It was going to be perfect, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind about what she would say. It would be beautiful, and she, as always, would be beautiful. A smile was easy on his face as he opened the door to her flat – the flat they shared more often than not, something he had long since christened home. His smile had faded as soon as he saw the tears streaming down her perfectly freckled cheeks. "Gin, what's wrong?" he asked, naively. If looks could kill, he would have died a quick, but very painful death._

_She hated him. Why did she hate him?_

"_Don't play coy with me, Blaise Zabini."_

"_I have no idea what you're talking about Ginny," he said, confusion apparent even to her, but she thought – obviously – that he was faking it. It was real, and she should have known that he wasn't that good of an actor, in hindsight. "I don't understand. What's going on?" He felt a little like a lost puppy dog, an animal whose master just threw it out on the street, and he couldn't help but feel a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps this would be a brief fight, but he was no longer sure of her feelings for him. Unadulterated fury shot at him through her eyes._

"_Really, Blaise – I would have expected groveling, not denial. You bloody damn well know what's going on. You slept with _Cho Chang_ in my bed. MY BED!" she exclaimed at this point up in his face (he couldn't help but think about how beautiful she was when she was mad). Now, though, he was getting mad at her – her accusations were entirely unfounded! As if she read his thoughts, she took her strong hand and shoved him lightly. It wasn't playful. "I caught you. I saw you."_

"_It wasn't me!"_

"_Blaise. I know what you look like naked. Don't try and convince me otherwise. I saw you. I saw you screwing that tramp, and you cannot wheedle yourself out of this one. I swear to Morganna, Blaise, I will never forgive you."_

_She slammed the door in his face as he fought to understand. Cho Chang…and him? Of all the half-cocked ideas Ginny had, she had to put him in their bed with Cho Chang. It had taken the whole entire night to piece together what happened (and many angry Weasleys confronting him and threatening him with physical pain). That _bitch_ had gotten a boyfriend, polyjuiced him, and then…_

It had to be. Had to be! Otherwise, Ginny wouldn't be mad at him. Otherwise, Cho wouldn't be looking so smug when he went into work the next day looking weary and upset. Otherwise she wouldn't have said, "Thanks for letting me use your brush, Blaise. Oh – and your bed. It was very comfortable, and the girl's face was priceless." All in all, Blaise was beginning to convince himself that Cho had deserved Slytherin (and she deserved jail), there was no way that Ginny would believe him, and he was doomed.

He quickly explained how he had still tried to carry out his plan, hoping that she must have realized her mistake by then. How wrong he was – she had still been angry as ever, and he had subsequently lost her. He lost her to her foolish pride, and he had lost her to his inability to calm her down, to make her think logically and rationally. Breaking down again, he held a hand out to the two, dropping his head into the other one.

He had lost his love and his life; both Draco and Hermione understood how he was feeling, and they stayed quiet, glancing at each other briefly before Hermione jumped up. "Shit!" she exclaimed. Both of the boys glanced expectantly at her, and she looked pointedly at the clock. "Ginny." Hermione and Draco's flat held a clock much like Molly Weasley's, something the family had gifted Hermione with when they were all still friends, before Ron died. It had Ginny, Draco, Harry, Ron, Blaise, and her own picture on the many hands, although Ron's hand simply spun in wild circles.

Ginny's hand was currently in the 'visiting' slot, and all three friends jumped when the knock came at the door. Blaise almost looked sick, Draco looked like he didn't know what to do, and Hermione, well, she was already up and walking to the door. "Take Blaise _and_ the clock into the guest bedroom and for Merlin's sake, ward the doors with a silencer, a muffler, and something to keep her out! She paces when she's angry!" It was true, Ginny would walk briskly from room to room, shouting and waving her hands to make points, and she sometimes left a swath of near destruction behind her. She had never broken anything, but picture frames, books, and anything that was not supposed to be on the floor generally ended up on the floor.

When Hermione opened the door, a tight smile on her face, Ginny heard in the background a door slamming, and before she said 'hello' or 'thank you' she asked, "What was that?" Obviously, Ginny had not gained very many manners in the year they had separated.

"Ginny Weasley, you should very well know what that is," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes slightly. It was very easy to forget that Ginny and she were no longer friends, easy to forget that Ginny was only here because of the man currently sequestered in her guest room. At Ginny's bewildered, hurt, and enraged look, Hermione explained, "Draco's running away from you."

"Oh," she gasped, and then her visage returned somber, the sneer that had rested earlier replaced by sadness and perhaps hope. "Hermione – I…" Of course she couldn't finish the sentence. Of course her obstinate pride wouldn't let her apologize. Of course she had to look into Hermione's understanding face. Of course the slightly shorter girl pulled her in for a hug.

Of course Ginny started sobbing, pride forgotten, when Hermione whispered, "It's okay. You've been forgiven for months now. I've just been waiting for you to come back." So many problems were solved with that, and Ginny was thankful. Ginny was even more thankful when Hermione detached herself from the red-head's arms, dragged her in the house, shut the door, and led her over to the sofa. Hermione was thankful that Ginny appeared to be more distraught than angry. Hermione was thankful that Ginny was still wearing the ring Blaise had left behind. Hermione was thankful that Ginny was not screaming her lungs out.

"Blaise…" was all that Ginny could say, "Your sofa smells like him. Was he here?" There was something about the lost look on Ginny's face that capitulated Hermione into nodding somberly, sitting down on the couch as a fresh system of tears and sobs shook her friend (for that was what they were…really). All Hermione could do – she didn't want to speak, lest she ruin Ginny's mood (she really didn't want an angry Ginny on her hands) – was rest her hand tentatively on the crying girl's shoulder. "Oh, you must think I'm horrible! I left, no, abandoned you and Malfoy, and now I've broken Blaise's heart!"

"I'm not worried about Blaise. I'm worried about you, Ginny," Hermione reassured, "And no, I don't think you're horrible, I think you've made mistakes – everyone makes mistakes. Remember, in sixth year, when Harry hexed Draco in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom? Remember all the times that Ronald blew up his homework?" She cited their friend's mistakes to hopefully keep everything together, hopefully to keep Ginny from thinking that she was worthless. It didn't work.

"I'm worthless," sobbed Ginny, and without regard to Hermione, blew her nose on the dark material of Hermione's working robes.

"No, Ginny, you're not," she assured her friend, eying the slime on her sleeve warily, before deciding it was of no consequence. A simple cleaning spell would get it out; the Muggle washing machine would, too – it would be a perfect opportunity to teach Draco how to use it.

"Without Blaise, I am," Ginny insisted.

"Without Blaise, you're still you, whether you like it or not. And you, Ginny Weasley, are not worthless."

"He cheated on me. He thinks I'm worthless."

"He was going to propose to you. How do you know he actually cheated on you?"

"Because I saw them."

"It's the magical world. You can never be too sure what you see."

"I know what I saw. He was _shagging_ her."

"That doesn't make you worthless."

"Yes, it does."

"Ginny."

"Fine, maybe I'm not worthless, but I feel like I am," Ginny bemoaned, dropping her head into her hands, shaking it side to side as if saying 'no.' It was obvious from the nearly blank look on her face she was almost completely broken; Hermione had never seen her like this before, and was overcome by an overwhelming desire to make everything okay. "I love him. He obviously loved me. We could have worked through this. He wanted to marry me. I threw it all back in his face. I'm just as bad as him. I'm worse than him."

"Ginny, listen to me – he still loves you, and if he did cheat on you, which, might I add, stretches my imagination far beyond its normal confines, then it's his fault for not respecting you, not keeping you the number one female in his life," Hermione said, trying to be reassuring, trying to get it through Ginny's brain that she was actually worth something, but she had never been fully rational when she was upset. "If you can forgive him, I'm sure he'll forgive you. You do still love him, right?"

"I can't."

This worried Hermione, more than anything else Ginny had said in those five minutes. "Can't what? Can't love him, or can't forgive him?" she asked, praying Ginny would clarify.

"I just…can't forgive him. I will love him forever, but I cannot forgive him."

"Ginny, I forgave Draco."

"It's different. He hurt me."

"Ginny, you don't think Draco hurt me? He _raped_ me, left me _pregnant_, and he had abandoned us! How is that different? How?!" Hermione exclaimed – completely angry at Ginny for insinuating that rape was not as hurtful as someone cheating on you.

"Because you didn't care," Ginny stubbornly said, standing up from the couch and putting her hands on her hips. "Draco raped you and you took him back into your life like it was nothing. Besides, you weren't even together until after you forgave him. That makes it different."

"Oh, so I had to be dating him to love him?" Hermione shot back, her voice layered with sarcasm and disgust at how dim-witted Ginny was. This was the age-old argument, and it was turning into the same argument that Ginny had initiated a year ago, after Hermione had delivered the news that she and Draco were friends again, only last time, she didn't say anything about 'love.'

Ginny stared shocked.

"I didn't know."


End file.
